


The Nightmare

by thatfragilecapricorn



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfragilecapricorn/pseuds/thatfragilecapricorn
Summary: Written for The X-Files Horror Exchange. Prompt: demonsMulder and Scully stay at an old bed and breakfast.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: X-Files Horror Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	The Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Baroness_Blixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/gifts).



> The title is inspired by the painting "The Nightmare" (1781) by Henry Fuselli

Mulder and Scully drove through the Vermont countryside, carefully navigating the winding roads covered in leaves. It was early fall; the trees had just begun their metamorphosis and the view was stunning. Scully wondered if Mulder specifically picked their current case so they could enjoy the seasonal foliage, because if so, she very much appreciated that level of planning.

They pulled up to a small inn with Victorian architecture; the house looked like it belonged in a novel with a governess as the protagonist. It was very quiet - the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees - which unnerved Scully, who was used to the incessant din of city living.

They got out of the vehicle, both admiring the tableau. She turned to look at her partner. “Really, Mulder?”

“What?” he asked, as he tried to pull their luggage from the trunk.

“Is this really a case or are you trying to get a free vacation on the bureau’s dime?” she chided.

He squinted at her, confused by her line of questioning.

She gestured to their surroundings. “Vermont in October… quaint bed and breakfast… are we really here for work?”

“I hate to disappoint you, Scully, but this is not a romantic getaway,” he said, “but it could be if you play your cards right.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Mulder continued, “This town is so small that this is the only accommodation available. Unless you’d prefer to camp out in the woods?” 

Scully rolled her eyes and followed him inside, where they met the proprietor, Grace. She had gray hair but her presence belied a much younger woman. Grace showed them to their rooms and advised them that she would be around to answer questions and cook them breakfast in the morning.

Scully had to admit that this place was a lot nicer than some of the other motels they had stayed in. There were big windows that faced the changing forest and the bathroom even had a clawfoot tub. The only problem was that the heater was on overdrive. The climate was definitely cooler than Washington, but it wasn’t cold enough to warrant the sauna-like temperature. She couldn’t find a thermostat, so settled for opening the window a touch to let in the fresh air. Scully was marveling at the view when she had the sensation of someone watching her. Usually it was Mulder, which should make her uncomfortable but she was used to it at this point. However, when she turned around he wasn’t there.

“Mulder,” she called out. They were lucky that they snagged the two rooms that had a connecting door, so they didn’t have to traipse down the hall to talk to each other. 

“Yes, dear?” he responded through the open door. 

She made her way over to his side. “Were you just in my room?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said. He was pulling clothes out of his suitcase. She wondered briefly how none of his suits ever seemed to be wrinkled even after being packed away but hers always were.

“My room is really hot. Have you seen a thermostat around?”

He suggested she check with Grace, so she went down to the first floor. Scully didn’t see her anywhere, so she decided to explore a little. There was a parlor with sofas and chairs to sit on and a dining area with a few tables of varying sizes. Scully examined the portraits hung on the wall: many of them were black and white and seemed really old. As was common for the era, no one pictured was smiling and their blank stares made her shiver. She heard a creak behind her, but when she turned around there was no one there. Scully laughed to herself; she was getting spooked for no reason. 

Scully returned to the photographs. 

“That was my grandmother as a child, with her family,” a voice came right over Scully’s shoulder. She jumped a little.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Grace said with a slight laugh.

She continued, “They all lived and died in this house. My great-grandfather decided to convert it to an inn to make some extra money, but my family has always lived on the premises, even to this day.”

“Wow, so this house has been here a long time,” Scully commented.

“Yes, it has. My ancestors almost lost the property during the depression that occurred in the late 1800s. But my great-grandfather found some old railroad bonds that were worth a lot of money so he was able to pay off his debts. Family lore alleges that he made a deal with the devil in exchange for the bonds,” Grace chuckled as she said the last part.

Scully tried to keep her expression neutral but thought it was a strange story to share with a guest.

“Of course, I don’t think that’s true at all,” Grace continued. “More likely it was a rumor started because some of the townspeople were jealous of his good fortune. But a lot of my guests seem to really enjoy hearing that little story, particularly during this time of year.”

“My partner would love that story,” Scully said with a smile. She knew he was one of many that would get a real kick out of a tale like that, especially while staying in an old bed and breakfast, right around Halloween.

“How are the two of you settling in?” Grace asked.

“Now that you mention it, my room is actually really hot. Is there a way to turn down the heater?”

Grace frowned. “That’s odd. I actually haven’t turned the heat on yet. It’s still early enough in the season that the sun does a good job of warming the house. Though, it’s cool enough outside that if you open the windows, you should be fine.”

“Scully,” Mulder interrupted, now standing in the entryway to the parlor, with the case file and notes in his hand.

“Are you ready to go?” he inquired. She knew that they were due at the police station so she said goodbye to Grace. On her way out, she glanced back at the portrait on the wall, and could almost feel the stare of Grace’s great-grandfather, the alleged deal-making gentleman, on the back of her head when she walked out.

\----

It was late by the time Scully and Mulder returned to the inn. They had met up with the local detective, who gave them access to the evidence and even more detailed case notes. Scully conducted an autopsy while Mulder visited the crime scene. After the long day of travel and work, she was happy to have a comfortable bed to sleep in, even though she was too tired to try out the clawfoot tub. Scully drew the shades, but left them parted slightly, so that she could feel the soft breeze from the open window. She noticed that it was full moon and hoped that its luminescence wouldn’t keep her up. She closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly...

Scully woke with a start. She attempted to roll over to turn on the bedside lamp, but realized she couldn’t move at all. It’s okay, I’m still half-asleep, she thought. But when Scully tried to sit up, it felt like there was something pushing down on her chest. A feeling of panic began to overwhelm her and her breathing became shallower. Her room was completely dark, which was odd because before there was a sliver of moonlight between the shades. The most terrifying part was that she could hear loud, raspy breathing. Was it hers? Or something - someone - else’s?

After a few moments of paralysis and her heart practically beating out of her chest, everything dissipated - the labored breathing gone, the weight removed from her sternum, and the darkness lifted. Scully slowly tried to move and once she realized that there were no lingering issues, she ran to Mulder’s room. Fortunately the connecting doors were unlocked. 

She jumped on his bed and shook him awake. “Mulder, there’s something in my room.”

Mulder woke up instantly, asking “What’s going on?” as he started to get out of bed.

“I swear someone is in my room!” Scully exclaimed, trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

Mulder got out of bed to investigate and she followed him closely behind. He flicked on her light, which illuminated the room and showed that nothing was out of place. Mulder checked the closet and her bathroom, while Scully remained by the connecting doors. It seemed silly to be scared, but all she could think about was the pitch blackness, not being able to move and the noisy panting that sounded like it was from a person. Scully blushed a little when she saw her gun was on her bedside table. There was really no reason to bother Mulder when she could protect herself.

He met her at the doorway after his inspection was complete. “There’s no one here, Scully.”

She shifted on her feet, reluctant to be alone again. He must have been able to sense her hesitance at sleeping in her own room because he led her back to his bed, where she sat down.

“I’m sorry, Mulder, I really thought there was someone there.”

She started to explain the incident as Mulder got back into bed. She hoped that he wouldn’t comment on the fact that she was making herself comfortable as well, by laying down next to him. She didn’t want to go back to her room but she also couldn’t bear Mulder making a joke right now when she was still feeling a little frightened. 

He listened to her tale with interest and then asked, “Scully, have you heard of sleep paralysis?”

“Mulder, I’m a doctor. Of course I have.”

“Well, I hate to be the voice of reason, but your experience matches all the symptoms,” he stated with a chuckle.

“But it really felt like something was holding me down…” she trailed off, shivering slightly at the memory.

He brushed back a lock of hair that was plastered to her cheek from sweat.

“Did you know that hundreds of years ago, people didn’t know about sleep paralysis as a medical phenomenon and used to believe that a demon was sitting on your chest? And that’s why you couldn’t move?”

Scully wrinkled her nose. “Mulder, your bedtime story needs some work.”

Mulder laughed, “I can certainly arrange for sweet nothings to be whispered in your ear, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She snuggled into the covers a little more, and raised her eyebrows as if to say go on.

“In Newfoundland, the creature on a person’s chest was called The Old Hag. It’s actually a popular figure in their culture. There are a few ways to prevent the Old Hag from visiting, one of which is to sleep with a bible under your pillow…”

Scully fell asleep to the slow cadence of his voice and the feeling of his fingers brushing through her hair.

\----

The next morning, Mulder and Scully ate a quick breakfast in the dining room. There didn’t seem to be anyone else staying at the bed and breakfast, which added to unsettledness Scully felt. Once Grace left the house to tend to her garden, Scully turned to Mulder conspiratorially.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but…” she paused for dramatic effect. She owed him for letting her stay in his room last night, and she knew he would like this story.

“...Grace told me that there’s a legend in her family that her great-grandfather made a deal with the devil.”

Mulder looked intrigued. “Do tell.”

“Apparently, he was going to lose the house but found some railroad bonds out of the blue. So I guess he sold his soul for them?” she mused.

Mulder leaned back in his chair. “You know, Scully, in Greek and Brazilian mythology, you can make a deal with the devil, or rather a demon, at a crossroads. It’s also a popular theme of a lot of American folk music. I bet we could find one around here, see if her story is actually true.”

Scully glared at him. Now he was taking this too far. “No, Mulder. We have a real case to work on. Plus, even Grace doesn’t think the story is true.”

“So why are you telling me then? Do you think it has something to do with last night?” he questioned.

Scully turned back to her oatmeal. “Of course not. I just thought you would find it interesting, is all.” 

It was a small lie. She had forgotten about Grace’s tale until Mulder mentioned demons last night when he was providing historical explanation of sleep paralysis. Naturally, she didn’t think there was a demon (or Satan himself) in her room last night, but it was an odd coincidence. 

“Uh huh,” Mulder said skeptically. 

Instead of arguing, Scully glanced at her watch. “Come on, Mulder, we have to get going. We’re meeting the detective in twenty minutes.” She pushed away any thoughts of demons and deals out of her mind, so she could concentrate on her job.

\-----

When they got back to the bed and breakfast, Scully decided to test out the tub. She was happy that there was hot water and some nice soaps for her to use and that it actually looked clean. But when Scully exited the bathroom, she was concerned by how warm her room still felt. It was so strange: old houses tended to be drafty, not the other way around. Scully attempted to open her window even more, but it wouldn’t budge past the three inches it was already opened. She wondered if she should amend her opinion of this place.

It was only ten o’clock, so Scully decided to go downstairs and see if she could find Grace or a thermostat. It was eerily silent and only a few dimmed lights were still on. Grace didn’t seem to be around anywhere. Scully was, once again, drawn to the photos hanging on the wall. She tried looking for the one Grace showed her but it wasn’t there anymore. However, upon closer examination, the portrait was still there, but Grace’s great-grandfather was no longer in it! Instead, it just featured his wife and daughter, sitting on a divan. Scully could have sworn that the first time she looked, there was a man standing behind the two women. 

Suddenly, the lights went out. Scully was so startled, she let out a little yelp. Luckily, she made it back to the staircase without running into something because there was moonlight streaming in from the windows. Scully exhaled and reminded herself that this was nothing like last night, which was sleep paralysis. Even still, she hurried upstairs before she could be disproven. Once back in her room, she triple checked that her door was locked, just in case. She thought about telling Mulder about what happened, but she didn’t want to give him any more reason to go looking for a crossroads.

However, it didn’t matter, because a few hours after Scully fell asleep, she was awoken again, but this time by Mulder.

“Scully! It happened again!” he whispered eagerly.

“What?” she grumbled, still half asleep.

“I woke up and couldn’t move. The room was completely dark, even though it’s nearly a full moon. The same thing that you experienced!”

Scully sighed, “Mulder, you said it was sleep paralysis last night.”

“Scully, I don’t think so. I’ve experienced sleep paralysis and this was different. Plus, the story you told me at breakfast changed my mind about this situation.”

He walked around to the other side of her bed and pulled back the covers and started getting in.

“Mulder!” Scully exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m not staying in that room. That was freaky, Scully.”

“So you’re going to sleep here?” she asked, incredulously.

“What, you can sleep in my bed but I can’t sleep in yours? It’s the twentieth century.”

Scully sighed, “That doesn’t even make any sense, Mulder, but fine. Just don’t hog the covers.”

She turned over so her back was to Mulder. She could hear his breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep and it was surprisingly very soothing. Scully tried to concentrate on that instead of the weird things she had experienced in this house. She couldn’t wait to go home.

\----

Scully was not one to give into her imagination, but all day she’s felt like someone was watching her. It was a prickly feeling that gave her goosebumps. It started in the morning, when she went downstairs for breakfast and noticed that Grace’s great-grandfather was back in the portrait. Scully did a double-take when she walked by, and stared at it for a full minute, completely stunned. She was either going crazy or something very weird was going on. Neither explanation was very good. 

A few hours later, when her and Mulder were in the car, they drove through a four-way intersection that didn’t have any stop signs. Mulder laughed about the hijinks bored teenagers get up to, but Scully couldn’t help but notice that they had passed through a rural dirt crossroads. There was no one else on the road and no sign of life at all, which was eerie, but Scully ignored the feeling. Luckily, they were able to close their case so tonight would be their last in Vermont. 

Later that night, she wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone in her room, even though Mulder was just on the other side of the wall. She got ready for bed and kept thinking she saw something out of the corner of her eye. But whenever she whipped her head around (and almost gave herself whiplash), there was nothing there.

Scully could hear the TV in Mulder’s room, so she knew he was awake. She decided to see what he was up to. When she walked to their shared doors, he was sitting on his bed, flipping through the few channels available before landing on a nature documentary.

Without turning to look at her, Mulder asked, “Scully, are you going to bed?”

“Mhm,” she said, non-committedly. “We don’t get a lot of channels here, huh?” 

She was trying to come up with a topic of conversation that would justify her loitering in the doorway. But she didn’t have to, because Mulder walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her into the room.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” he asked with a slight smile. “That way we can protect each other.”

“That’s not what.. I wasn’t…” she tried to argue but Mulder’s smile just widened. 

“Oh, of course. I’m the one that actually needs protecting. You would be doing this as a favor to me,” he kept going.

Scully laughed. She appreciated him not giving her a hard time. Mulder could be really sweet, when he wasn’t driving her absolutely crazy. They both got into bed and Scully pretended not to notice that they each had their designated side now. She trusted Mulder, had since they first started working together, and sleeping in the same bed wasn’t actually as weird as it should have been. She just hoped it would be an uneventful night...

\----

For the third night in a row, Scully awoke to a pitch black room. There was no moon light streaming in from the window, even though that was the case when she fell asleep. She couldn’t even tell if Mulder was still beside her. The feeling of something pressing down on her chest was back and she couldn’t breathe. Her heart rate started ratcheting up. There was something breathing loudly in her ear. That couldn’t be Mulder, could it? She thought. Scully lay paralyzed for a few moments until the pressure let up. She blinked and the room returned to normal, meaning the glow from outside was bright enough that Scully could see the outlines of furniture. Was it still here? Scully didn’t know and was terrified. The room felt oppressively hot, like a sauna. She pulled the covers completely over her and Mulder, even though she knew a thin comforter would not protect her against anything natural or supernatural. She moved closer to Mulder, gently placing her palm over his mouth and pinching his upper arm. He grumbled and tried to pull away from her, so she placed her lips against his ear and whispered, “It’s here.”

He froze and turned his head slightly to look at her. She wondered if he could feel the thick air too.

Suddenly, a loud BANG sounded through the room. Both of them screamed and jumped up. Scully turned on the lamp, as Mulder grabbed his gun. Her eyes travelled around the room and noticed the bathroom door was now closed. The loud noise must have been the door slamming shut.

Mulder got up to open it, but it was jammed. He eventually pushed his way through using his shoulder. Scully was right behind him and saw that all of the toiletries had fallen off the counter. The bathroom had a small window, but Scully could see that it was secured.

“Maybe it was a draft?” she asked quietly, even though she knew that was unlikely. If anything, the rooms were stuffy and too warm, which would not indicate any type of draft.

Mulder just raised his eyebrows incredulously. He picked up a can of shaving cream off the floor, now with a cracked cap. It must have hit the floor with some force, indicating that the vibrations from the door slamming wouldn’t be enough.

“Regardless, I’m not staying in this room,” Mulder announced. Scully sighed, but didn’t disagree with him. They both moved to her bed instead, but Scully didn’t sleep at all until the first rays of sun appeared over the horizon and the room was bathed in golden light. 

\-----

Their flight left the regional airport at noon, and then they had to connect in Newark before finally making it back to DC. Scully was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed, uninterrupted, unlike the past three nights. She and Mulder didn’t really talk, just packed up their belongings and brought them to the car. Scully returned their room keys to Grace, who was trying to push coffee and muffins on the pair before they left. 

“Grace, if you don’t mind me asking: whose room did I stay in? Like before this place came a bed and breakfast?” She hoped that it wasn’t a rude question.

Grace looked at her strangely but responded with: “It’s funny that you ask, the two rooms you stayed in were actually the master suite a long time ago. My great-grandfather needed an office after he opened the inn so he connected the two rooms. You haven’t seen anything… strange… have you?” she asked curiously.

“Um, no, just wondering,” she said, probably a bit unconvincingly. 

When they finally reversed out of the driveway, Scully looked back at the inn. It still appeared to be a charming bed and breakfast but after her stay there, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding instead. She glanced up at the window of her room and saw a dark figure standing in the window.

Scully blinked and the shadow person was gone. She quickly turned back around in her seat.

“Scully, are you okay?” Mulder asked. She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“So what do you think? Poltergeist or crossroads demon looking to make another deal?” he queried with a grin.

Scully fiddled with her seatbelt. “Neither, Mulder. It was sleep paralysis. We just both happened to experience it at the same time.”

Mulder’s mouth dropped open. “Do not tell me that’s what you really think.”

Scully started snickering at the expression on his face. “I had you.”

“You did not.”

“I so did. Anyway, Mulder, I’m surprised by you. Why didn’t you want to stay and investigate more? We were practically living in an X-File.”

“Ah, you know. We don’t get paid enough to work two cases at the same time. Also, sometimes it’s nice just to let things remain a mystery.”

Scully rolled her eyes and laughed, “That was deep, Mulder. But I have another theory: you were scared.”

Mulder looked offended, “I wasn’t scared! You came into my room first. I was just doing you a favor the other nights.”

Scully started to debate that he was the one that screamed last night, which Mulder denied. She knew that this argument would entertain the both of them until they arrived back home, at which point they would call a truce. Mulder would help Scully with her luggage and she would make sure that he was going to stop for dinner, since he never had food in his fridge. And they would both agree that some mysteries were better left unsolved.


End file.
